


Out With It

by Clipped_Ionian_Vowels



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: Coming Out, Episode: s07e05 Blue, Getting Together, M/M, Reclaimed Slurs, Season/Series 07, excessive use of the word 'smeg'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-05 23:03:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16376711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clipped_Ionian_Vowels/pseuds/Clipped_Ionian_Vowels
Summary: Rimmer finally comes home, hangs up the wig and decides to set the crew 'straight' about one thing; he's not.And neither, it transpires, is Lister.





	Out With It

**Author's Note:**

> This spiralled wildly – and I mean WILDLY - out of control; it was originally supposed to be 3000~ words. But hey, who doesn’t love a good old-fashioned Blue fic?
> 
> Set during series 7, after Blue.

"Hey Cat, you there? Grab me a coffee, would you? Think I might pull a late one tonight." Lister didn't look round from where he was piloting Starbug, his eyes lazily fixed on the screen before him. A clear black screen, salted with a light sprinkling of stars lay in front of him. No mercenoids. No asteroids. No gimboids. Not, in short, anything that would warrant an all-nighter.He would almost definitely fall asleep anyway, but with any luck, the coffee and the unpleasant sensation of buttons sticking up his nose would make him uncomfortable enough that he wouldn't stay that way for long. 

Logically, he knew that trying to stay awake was not a suitable solution to his problems, but he was willing to try anything to escape those smegging dreams about Rimmer. Even Kryten's hellish AR adventure couldn't curb them anymore and only succeeded in getting that thrice-damned song going through his head for weeks on end. "Oi Cat, c'mon man" he grumbled.

"Hello, Listy."

Lister stiffened, barely resisting the urge to groan into his hands. How was he already asleep? And already in smegging Rimmer-dream-land? It would almost be bearable if Rimmer was actually  _here._ But coupled with the gaping hole of loneliness left by Kochanski's departure, these sorts of dreams only served to remind him how much he was bloody missing the goit.

"Did you say my name monkey man?" Cat's voice floated through the door of the control room, and Lister perked up. This was new. Cat had never featured in his dreams before. After the initial spike of hope, Lister's heart filled with dread. It could still easily be a dream. And what if Cat was way more involved in the dream than he had any right to be? What if his smegged up brain decided it was a good idea to start kissing Cat? The prospect wasn't worth thinking about. All those teeth.

"Ace?" Lister heard Cat’s surprised voice ring around the room **.** He still couldn't force himself to look back and confirm the impossible."Heyyy, nice to see you again bud! How long have you been here?"

“Oh, only about a minute or so. Simply ripping to see you too old chap.”

"Someone pinch me," Lister said, dry-mouthed as he finally managed to work up the mental fortitude to turn around and look at the hologram.

He wasn’t as flawless as he had been when Lister dreamt him up. He wasn't how Kryten's AR ‘adventure’ presented him either. He was...smeg, he looked  _real_. Nostrils slightly wider than Lister remembered and missing the ethereal glow that his dreams liked to attribute to the scene. Simulated wrinkles slightly deeper. And of course, that ridiculous Ace getup never changed.

"Sir! Sir, you'll never believe this" Kryten's voice echoed through the halls, accompanied by the heavy tread of his hurried footsteps.

"Oh, I bet I will" he murmured, unable to take his eyes from Rimmer's face. The man was smiling. _Smiling._ A strange sort of smile; not sadistic or scheming, infinitely small yet definitely _there._ Lister wondered at what it meant.

"Still occupying this trusty rust-bucket then?" Ace looked around him, running his fingers over the top of the control desks as he took long, Ace-like strides about the room. 

"Rimmer?" Lister asked softly as the hologram completed a circuit of the room and slowed to a stop next to him. The Ace getup and hair and otherwise all-round slickness couldn’t change the fact that Rimmer had said ‘Hello Listy’ in that nasally way that Lister had grown to hate, then to love, then to hate specifically because he loved it. "It's you, isn't it?"

The lopsided grimace that appeared on Rimmer’s face, as if he’d walked into class late, or come to a job that he was slowly realising that he didn’t at all want to do, was all the confirmation he needed.

"Rimmer?" snorted the Cat derisively. "Are you blind monkey-man? Don't let him insult you like that Ace."

"Mr Lister!" Kryten entered the room "There's a ship outside! Someone's come aboa- Oh! Mr Ace Sir! It's so wonderful to see you again!" Kryten beamed.

"It sure is my old chum!" Rimmer's fake smile held for a second or two before it oozed from his face. He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. "Care to disillusion them Skipper?" he asked quietly.

Lister sighed. Typical Rimmer. Being Ace might have changed lots of things, but it apparently hadn’t changed the cowardice at Rimmer's core. 

"Krytes, Cat, you remember a while ago, when we were visited by Ace and Rimmer… died? Properly died?"

"Sure I do buddy! That was one of the best days of my life!"

"Yeah well... that wasn’t quite the truth. Rimmer didn't die. _Ace_ did. He told Rimmer to take his place as saviour of the universe. You know, rider of alligators, tamer of feral simulants… all that smeg."

"Engaging disbelief mode. Mr Lister, you can't be serious? You mean to say that that crawling, cringing worm of an excuse for a hologram, that veritable king of cowardice, that despicable malfunctioning prototype of personality became  _Ace Rimmer_? I'm sorry sir, I just can't believe it. Engaging derision mode." The android proceeded to emit a monotonous chortle. 

"Don't big me up too much, you oversized pocket iron with legs."

The android blinked several times in shock.  

"Mr... Mr Rimmer?"

"Afraid so. A bonafide smeghead this one" Lister said, jerking a thumb in Rimmer's direction and being wary not to let hope creep into his voice just yet. "How do we know that you're  _our_ Rimmer though? You could be an imposter. You could be in the wrong dimension. You could even be a _really_ sneaky polymorph."

"Why would a polymorph make itself look like Eurotunnel nostrils? The way I see it, we’d just kill it faster!"

"You flatter me" Rimmer deadpanned, pulling a box from inside his bakerfoil wrapping. "I can prove that I’m ‘your Rimmer’. This is a reality counter. A ‘Universal Series Tally’ to use its proper name. It tells you which sector of the multiverse you're in. I actually snagged this from another dimension; the Cat there had letters after his name, a degree in astrophysics, and a functioning brain. Pity evolution wasn't so kind to this one." The Cat glared at him as he continued. "As you can see on the screen, we are currently in Sector 5. This glowing dot  _here-"_ he pointed at the screen "-is me."

The round dot that Rimmer had indicated appeared to be wearing a blond toupee.

"This colour indicator down the side shows how near or far I am from my original reality by - Are you lot listening?"

Lister had silently mimed 'wig' at Kryten and the Cat, and they were all in various stages of trying to hide their laughter. 

Lister recovered first, his lip twitching slightly as he tried not to look at the real blonde wig.

"That's all very well man, but I don’t see how your souped-up, tricked-out relic flip-phone proves anything. You could just be making it up so that we believe you. And then you could eat our brains at your leisure.” He raised his brows. It was a valid concern.

Rimmer huffed in annoyance and shoved the counter back into his wrapping. Lister thought that Kryten was probably calculating exactly how many jacket potatoes could be cooked in that coat and stifled another chuckle.

"For smeg's sake! Fine! Ask me some questions then! Stuff that only 'your' Rimmer would know." he made air quotes around the word 'your', wrinkling his nose as if the phrase had a particularly unpleasant smell. 

"I got one! What was the name of that freaky hand puppet that you got when you had that holo-virus?"

"Mr Flibble was an unfortunate mishap. You know when I said ‘questions’, this isn’t exactly the type of thing I had in mind" Lister could already hear a measure of forced jocularity in the hologram's voice. He wondered just how far this Ace facade could be pushed before it splintered back into the Rimmer they all knew and hated.

"I believe I have a question, Sir. What was the colour of the dress you were wearing at that time?"

“What time?”

“The Mr Flibble incident Sir”

"It was red, although how you possibly expect me to remember this sort of thing when I was  _deathly ill_ , I really don't know. Ask something serious for smeg's sake. How does this prove anything?" Rimmer's grin was starting to falter.

"What  _pattern_ was the dress?"

"Gingham," Lister thought he could almost hear the grinding of Rimmer's teeth "- _stop_ asking about the dress."

"Pigtails or ponytail?"

"Plaited pigtails! Perhaps we should _move on_ now hmm? Ask something different?"

"What sort of an animal was Mr Flibble?"

"If we could progress from the Mr Flibble event chaps, that would be  _marvellous._ I know your brains are very small so that might be har- _"_

"-What _animal_ , goalpost head? Answer, or we’ll blast you back into your flying sardine can, our Rimmer or _not_. _"_ The Cat glared at him menacingly, miming loading a bazookoid. 

"A smegging  _penguin_. Happy?" Lister could see Rimmer struggling to keep his composure, his voice getting progressively louder and more agitated and his eye performing a twitchy little dance under the locks of hair that kept dangling in his face and getting aggressively flicked back.

The crew pondered quietly for a moment before Lister's face took on a sly expression.

"What was the last thing you said before you died?"

Rimmer turned white, his nostrils flaring in anger. He'd been able to mostly mask his annoyance up to this point, hiding it behind long-suffering smiles and just managing to rein it in on clipped Ionian vowels. But it was obvious that he had reached his limit. 

"You  _promised,"_ he said, voice shaking with rage "You promised never to bring that up again!"

"This is an exceptional circumstance" 

"No." Rimmer's mouth puckered around the answer. If looks could kill, Lister would be more fried than his morning bacon after a night of heavy drinking. 

"Rimmer, if you know this one then I'll believe you." Rimmer's complete refusal to answer the question was practically an answer in itself, but Lister had to be sure. It was a ‘one-reality’ kind of answer.

"I'm not saying it in front of the other two." 

"Whisper it in my ear then" Lister shot back cheekily.

"No more questions after this?"

"No more questions"

Rimmer's mouth pressed into a hard line. 

"Make those two leave"

"Come on, they'll never believe me if they leave. You could brainwash me the minute they step outside. Or suck out my brains through my eyes. We haven't totally ruled out that polymorph idea you know."

" _Fine_ " The tone of Rimmer's voice suggested that this was the furthest thing from 'Fine' that anyone could possibly get. 

Lister stood, hands on his hips and a small smirk curling his face, waiting for Rimmer to say the tell-tale word. A moment later, he let out an undignified squeak as his dreads were grabbed, Rimmer's simulated breath hot on his ear as he spat out " _Gazpacho_ " with as much malice as any living (or dead) being could put into the name of a soup. 

Lister was equal parts shocked and disgusted with himself as he felt a shiver wriggle up his spine at all this dread-pulling. He didn't want to admit that it was turning him on, but he couldn't exactly deny it. Not to mention the fact that Rimmer was  _strong_ and the low voice in his ear sent his brain tripping merrily down well-worn neural pathways that involved dreams and Rimmer and hot breathy whispers in a darkened control room. 

The harsh grip on his hair was released abruptly, although whether this was relieving or disappointing, Lister wasn't quite sure. 

" _Well_?  _Are we satisfied now_?" Rimmer asked, voice sardonic and laced with venom. Luckily, he seemed completely oblivious to his poor choice of wording in regards to Lister's current train of thought.

"Yeah yeah. Calm down you smeghead." Lister delivered a light punch to Rimmer's shoulder in a weak attempt to diffuse the tension. To his credit, Rimmer only made a disgruntled sort of noise. If nothing else, being Ace certainly seemed to have done wonders for the man's temper. Lister turned to the others, trying to keep the too-wide grin from showing too obviously on his face "It's definitely him."

After a marked silence (which most ordinary, normal people with a single shred of common decency would fill with an obligatory 'welcome back, we're happy to see you again etcetera etcetera', even if they were in fact,  _not_ happy to see them), Rimmer coughed awkwardly. 

"Well, it's simply  _lovely_ to be back," he said, unable to stop the sarcasm dripping from his mouth.

The phrase seemed to snap the rest of the crew back into action and remind them of how they should behave in this sort of situation. Kryten shook his hand with too much enthusiasm and let him know how happy they were that he hadn't died (again) after all. The Cat did his best to pretend to look pleased and reminded Rimmer that everything on the ship was still his, and Lister... Lister didn’t know how he felt. There was a part of him that was still overwhelmingly suspicious; his mind had pulled dirtier tricks on him before. But even he couldn’t help being utterly convinced that this time, for once, Rimmer was real. It was an intoxicating feeling.

“I’ll go and fetch the nice champagne” Kryten offered, scuttling off and returning a moment later with a bottle, some glasses, and a can of beer for Lister.

Snagging the beer from Kryten and trying to control his frankly inappropriate enthusiasm, Lister decided to stick with a neutral sounding question. 

"So. How long are you staying?"

Rimmer glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, swallowing a mouthful of champagne. Lister suddenly felt nervous; Rimmer's answer could be anything from five years to five minutes, and he wasn't sure whether he could give the man up again that soon. Not after the loneliness of the last couple of months and the way that he hadn't quite forgiven himself for sending the hologram anyway. Even if it had felt like the most selfless thing to do at the time.

"Well, that really depends..."

"On-?"

"On whether you lot want me" 

"Of course we want you, you daft smegger! It hasn't been the same without you man." Lister finished softly, speaking over what looked to be the beginnings of a protest from Kryten and the Cat. 

The wobbly smile that appeared on Rimmer's face at this comment was worth the filthy look that the Cat was giving him, followed by the indignant comment that “No, it wasn't the same without goalpost head. It was better”.

"I suppose my bunk's been ransacked, has it?"

"Well Sir, Miss Kochanski was using your bunk for a while, so it had to be modified to suit a female occupant. I'm sure we can restore things to how they were prior to your death-I mean,  _departure"_ Kryten said sourly, shooting an injured look at Lister. He shrank guiltily under the android's stare. Perhaps keeping up the lie had been a bit underhanded, but it wasn’t as if they’d have believed him anyway.

"Kochanski was here?" Rimmer's face sparked with fire and then relaxed so quickly that Lister couldn’t be sure that he’d really seen anything at all.

"Here one day and gone the next; in and out faster than a pornstar doing the hokey-kokey. Mr Lister was so miserable when she left, but it wasn't all bad. Do you know how difficult it is to iron a bra, Mr Rimmer?"

"I can't say that I've ever had much occasion to find out." he sighed, looking as if he was about to say something and then abruptly changing course at the last minute "I suppose there's been a few rounds of the horizontal hokey-kokey in my bunk hasn't there? Honestly, with you lot there's no dignity. No sense of shame."

"It wasn't like that man," Lister said truthfully, shrugging when Rimmer looked at him with undisguised shock on his face. "We kissed once or twice, but it never went further than that. In the end, we just worked better as friends."

"But I bet she was attractive. And it's not like you to be ‘just friends’ with… well, a  _woman.”_

Lister worked hard to keep his dream script answer of ‘she didn’t hold a candle to you man’ under wraps.

"She had her own Dave Lister in another dimension... I think it just felt a bit like cheating to her. Went off to go and find him a few months ago and we haven’t heard from her since." Lister shrugged again. It still hurt, Kochanski's departure, but he didn't want to dwell on it now. Or ever, really. 

"I see..." Again, Rimmer looked as if he was about to say something important but swallowed the words back down quickly. "I'm sorry about that. Still, at least you've got me now. The fabled Ace  _Rimmer._ " he flashed what should have been a winning smile but which seemed to be lacking something.

He paused, looking down at his feet as he clasped his hands behind his back. Eventually, he looked back up, bit his lip awkwardly and quickly stared at a nondescript point on the ceiling. 

"There's actually something I need to tell you all... something that might-" he looked around him as if he was trying to divine words from the rust-speckled interior of Starbug "-surprise you."

"Smeg off - you're not married are you?"

"No one would marry goalpost head! He’s more high-maintenance than a stripper’s pubic hair, and that’s coming from me! **”**

"Someone might marry  _Ace_  though," Lister said thoughtfully, thinking somewhat guiltily about the times they'd seen an Ace from another dimension. It wasn't that he'd ever  _acted_ on any of his impulses, smeg no, but he'd be lying to himself if he said he hadn't thought about it. A lot. And there was that one time with the bath... His train of thought was rapidly derailed when Rimmer finally managed to squeeze a word in edgeways. 

"No, I'm not married. You see I- well I learned some things about myself while I was out there..." Rimmer trailed off, looking like he already regretted what he was about to say.

"That deep down you are fundamentally a not entirely despicable person and, despite your upbringing and general failings as a human being, will now strive to bring joy and happiness to all you encounter?"

"What? No, don't be stupid Kryten. I'm still the same despicable smegger I always was. Everything I did out there, it was all a sham. Sure, I saved some civilisations. So what? They often died the next day anyway. The wildfire had this awful habit of filling atmospheres with toxic gas whenever she left a planet... and it all got a bit samey. I didn't belong in that life. I couldn't commit to the 'Ace' lifestyle, and am perfectly happy being a horrible, selfish, obnoxious and all-round rude arse for the foreseeable future. No, I... there's something else that I need to... smeg... I'm, I'm-"

"You're not pregnant are you buddy?"

"No, I’m not, please kindly shut  _up!_ " Rimmer glared at Cat as he tore the Ace wig off in agitation. His mass of curls tried to bounce back into position but the curse of wig hair kept them firmly corkscrewed to his scalp. Lister was surprised at the effect the removal of the ridiculous wig had. Rimmer suddenly seemed a great deal more Rimmer-like. All he was missing was the H. And clothing that didn't act like a signal to ships lost in the night.

"I...see, while I was out there, meeting new people, doing new things..."

He fluffed his hair angrily, stress etched into his features. Lister wondered whether he could detect a slight tremor in the man's hands, or if it was just the terrible lighting in the cabin. 

"I'm... I'm... I-"

"You developed a speech impediment? Sir, I believe the medibay might have a course for that-"

"Krytes, shut up," said Lister quietly. Rimmer had just sent him a desperate look, a hopeless, vulnerable look, and a dim lightbulb flickered on in the proverbial darkness of Lister's brain. The sort of lightbulb that a dodgy electrician's apprentice might install, but a lightbulb nevertheless. Lister wasn't one hundred percent sure if he was right in his assumption, but knowing Rimmer like he did, it probably wasn't a bad guess. Except, the Rimmer he knew was also the sort of person who would never,  _could_ never admit that sort of thing. Even to himself.

"I needed to... I'm comfortable with it. I just... I wanted to tell you all. It felt important to say it."

"Say what?"

Lister dragged a hand down his face as Kryten and the Cat continued to look perplexed.

"I'm...oh smeg."

"Good grief Rimmer," Lister said softly "just say it."

"I'm gay."

"What?" Cat screwed a finger into his ear. To be fair to the feline, the words that came out of Rimmer's mouth might have been audible to the dust motes in front of his face, but hardly to anyone else in the room, even with the evolutionary advantage of cat-hearing. 

"I'm gay," Rimmer repeated louder yet still barely over a stage whisper, colour rising hotly to his cheeks as he blushed up to his hairline. Lister thought it was quite sweet, and then mentally scolded himself for ever thinking of Rimmer as sweet. 

There was a small pause. 

"You're what?" The Cat repeated. There was no question of him having heard this time. 

"Gay! A flaming, poofy queer. Shirt-lifter extraordinaire! So bent that you could use me as a twirly cocktail straw in a Brighton bar! 'Gay' as in 'Shove twenty of me into a cigarette box and call it a packet of fags'. So smegging into  _cock_  that the H on my head may as well stand for hulking great homosexual!" 

Rimmer pressed a hand against his forehead, frowned for a moment before sighing and rubbing the customary 'H' into existence. Ace Rimmer disappeared, and Arnold Rimmer sagged under the weight of his confession. Lister thought he could see the stress of years gathered on Rimmer's shoulders and settling across his face.He saw Rimmer as the man he had become. And he was startled to find that he didn't exactly hate him.

"Surprise!" A rough, wan smile scratched at Rimmer's voice, accompanied by the most lacklustre set of jazz hands that Lister had ever seen. 

The genuine smile that was halfway onto Lister's face with congratulatory words and maybe even a hug if Rimmer was up to it, was viciously cut off by a panicked "What?! What do you mean?!?" from the Cat. 

"I think Rimmer's been pretty clear..." Lister tried to say tactfully, worried that Rimmer might actually explode if the livid red hue of his face was anything to go by.

“But you don’t understand what this means! I’m going to have to get rid of _all_ of last season because now Goalpost head is going to _know._ How do gay people always _know?_ And you don’t understand how hard it is to get rid of perfectly beautiful shiny things! You know what? You’re an inconsiderate guy and I don’t _like_ you.” he jabbed his forefinger at Rimmer and rushed from the room.

"Yes," Rimmer deadpanned at Cat's retreating figure “that was absolutely the most important thing to take from the conversation.”

Kryten looked thoughtful.

"Well, you repurposed vacuum cleaner, what's your take? Scared that I'm going to become all domestic and start taking away your precious washing and ironing and tidying?" Rimmer griped nastily. 

"No Sir. In fact, I'm surprised that I didn't realise it earlier"

"Well it's hardly like I was ever obvious about it"

"Au contraire," the android said smugly "all the signs were there. Little to no sexual experience with women, excessively derogative and degrading of those who presented as homosexual - including that version of Ace we met and oh how you  _hated_ him. Personal grooming bordering on fastidiousness - not that that proves anything of course, but it does make for compelling evidence when combined with such other factors as cross-dressing-"

"CROSS-DRESSING? When have I ever-"

"Not to mention that disturbing little scene on your psi-moon. Oh Sir, I'm so sorry, I should have realised months, years ago even!"

Lister risked a glance at Rimmer to see him looking positively murderous. 

"Now Krytes, don't you think you're overdoing it a bit on the stereotypes? None of that means anything these days. It's like me saying that you like cleaning because you're an android."

"But Sir, that's the truth."

"Er... smeg. The point is, just because Rimmer fulfils a number of stereotypes, that doesn't mean he's gay."

"But I am gay."

"But not because you fit the stereotypes!" Lister iterated in a frustrated way. "You're not gay because you like folding your underwear or wearing corsets or any of that smeg, you're gay because – er because - "

"Because I like cock?" Rimmer raised an eyebrow and his lips twitched in amusement. Lister was confused as to how somehow he was on the back foot here when it was Rimmer who came out in the first place.

"I'm sorry if I offended you, Mr Rimmer. My programming teaches me to recognise patterns and extrapolate data based on them, and stereotypes are, for better or worse, part of my pattern database. I'm wondering whether I may have a loose circuit somewhere..." Kryten trailed off and began to manipulate his head with his hands, presumably trying to locate a broken connection. "Strangely enough, I always rather expected that sort of confession to come from Mr Lister"

"Eh?!" Lister spluttered while Rimmer frowned. 

"What? Mr I-think-I'm-Giacomo-Casanova-reincarnated Lister? As in, David 'if it has breasts I’m salivating over it' Lister? That Lister? I think it might be time to switch to one of your spare heads Kryten; this one's gone loopy."

"No, no, I'm perfectly functional thank you" Kryten replied primly "I just thought that, regarding the dreams that Mr Lister started having...  _well_ it would have been a lot more obvious than your clues."

"What dreams?" Rimmer asked curiously, just as Lister realised what the android was driving at. 

"Kryten, I swear to smeg if you-"

"Mr Lister didn't tell you about the dreams he started having once you left?"

"KRYTEN"

"Sir?"

"Say another word and I'll never let you wash another piece of my laundry ever again. That's an order Krytes, not one more word about those dreams or you'll be in and out of that airlock before you can say 'this isn’t the good kind of vacuum'."

"Order overruled by a superior ranking officer," Rimmer interjected smugly.

"I don't see what the problem is Mr Lister. Everyone has dreams, and yours just happened to involve kissing -"

"KOCHANSKI! I dreamt about kissing  _Kochanski_ because she was part of the crew at the time and  _I really liked her_." Lister gave Kryten a very hard look which went completely unnoticed by the android.

"That's not what you told me Sir" the android looked confused as Rimmer raised an eyebrow at Lister. This was it. His life was officially over. Here lies Dave Lister: Smegged before his time.

Much to Lister's relief, the Cat chose this point to flounce back into the room, sporting a new outfit with bejewelled collar and sleeves. He peered at Rimmer once before turning his nose up and looking towards the ceiling dramatically. Rimmer rolled his eyes and sunk his head onto his palm in resignation. 

"Cat. You don't seriously think that Rimmer is going to become all fashion conscious do you? This is  _Rimmer_  we're talking about; the man who thinks Napoleon had a good dress sense, and that Gucci is a type of yoghurt."

"Isn't it?" Rimmer said in surprise.

"But he's gay now!" Cat said brokenly, slouching so that his sleeves clinked against his belt buckle.

"No, he's always been gay. Tragically, he’s still the same old smeghead he's always been."

“You just watch it, Miladdo.”

“Sirs, I hate to interrupt, but there appears to be a number of unidentified objects on the viewing screen. Shall I enlarge the visual?”

“Smeg, what is it now? Enlarge away, Krytes.”

A string of strangely shaped articles appeared on the screen. Lister peered at them as Kryten ran his scans. He tried to ignore the way that Rimmer felt, pressed warmly against his shoulder in an effort to see better.

“What’s the verdict then? Rogue simulants? GELFs? One of Rimmer’s multiple ex-boyfriends?” he grinned to himself as Rimmer blustered behind him. He didn’t pull away though, and Lister quietly relished in the closeness.

“Thankfully, nothing of the sort; the objects seem to be benign and non-threatening. If I’m correct, they’re just space junk, Sir.”

“How dare you talk about my suits that way!”

“Your _suits?”_ Lister looked back out of the window in disbelief as a shiny purple jacket drifted into focus. Rimmer was busy finding the whole thing vastly entertaining. Affecting a voice even more nasally than his own, he proceeded to set up a running commentary on the objects that were streaming past the viewing screen at ever increasing speeds.

“Would you look at that? Why, I do believe it’s a lesser spotted, great-crested waistcoat! And is that- Yes! A mating pair of hideous designer socks! This is a rare treat. Truly spectacular.”

“Can I ask _why?”_ Lister said, unable to take his eyes off the screen as a ‘herd of serenely majestic blazers’ galloped past.

“Well, I couldn’t keep them after Alphabet-Head came out as gay – too risky. Speaking of which, someone needs to pay my tailor for replacements and it’s not gonna be me.”

“What tailor?"

“As if I’d tell _you_ my trade secrets. Besides, everyone knows that Cats always have a personal tailor.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Well then, you can pay for the new suits.”

“Why me? It’s Rimmer’s fault that you threw out all that stuff in the first place!”

Rimmer spluttered about ‘homophobia’ and looked almost as if he was about to put Lister on report. The others ignored him.

The Cat rolled his eyes and sent Lister a withering look.

"Stop making excuses, Ape Face. Besides, you're the one who dreamt about kissing tunnel-nostrils, so that probably makes you gay too. Not to mention disturbed."

Lister's face went from red to white very very quickly. 

"That didn't happen," he said quietly, but the Cat had already left.

"Oh  _Listy"_ Lister didn't even want to  _look_  at Rimmer as his name rolled off the other man's tongue, coated so thickly in smugness that he was surprised it didn't just lodge in his throat and choke him to death. "Listy, Listy,  _Listy._ Seems like your Casanova act has been revealed for the sham it always was."

"Casanova had relationships with men too you know," he said, before realising that that little nugget of information probably wasn't helping his case at all. "Look, I just missed you man. Dreams can interpret things in weird ways. Missing, kissing." he indicated the rhyming words with his hands. "My brain just mixed the two up. Obviously."

"Of course. Dreams are nothing to be ashamed of." Rimmer grinned, pretending at thoughtfulness as he stroked his chin "Why then would Lister try to cover it up earlier by saying that he dreamt of kissing Kochanski? Oh, if only we could know what was going on in that impenetrable scouser's mind!" Rimmer shook his head sadly.

"I think there's some washing calling to me Sirs," Kryten said uncomfortably "Ah yes, you hear it? That's the sound of Mr Lister's socks gaining sentience. Must be going."

"Thanks Krytes," Lister said in a tone that was anything but thankful. 

"So" Rimmer leant forward, voice low and suggestive as Kryten hurried from the room "how was I? I bet I’m an incredible kisser."

"You are such a complete arse Rimmer, you know that? Those years away as some ‘great’ person have not changed you one jot." 

"Are you avoiding the question Listy?"

"Smeg. Off. Why do you even care?"

"Oh, I don't know." Rimmer flapped his hands in the air dismissively, before letting them fall to his sides, the jokey grin melting from his face like a Mr Whippy in a volcano. The bravado, which Lister realised must have been a hangover from being Ace, fell from him like a cloak as he stared into his lap. "Perhaps it's because I'm trying to deflect my discomfort somewhere else. Coming out is scary.” His eyes flicked briefly up to Lister’s before once again staring down into his lap “It's really smegging terrifying Listy. The old me wouldn't have done it. Smeg, the new me wishes I hadn't. I still want to run away and hide under a control booth, but now you all know and it's changed things. I can't hide, can't cower in a corner until it goes away. So maybe I'm just looking for some scrap of solidarity in this hell hole that doesn't make me regret coming back here." he sighed and looked back up, a small touch of Ace bravado colouring his voice "Of course, I really should have known that some common decency would be too much to expect around this place, but you know what they say; absence makes the heart forget that you used to live with idiotic  _gimboids_ who have fewer brain cells than testicles."

"Get the Cat neutered and that statement would be way more accurate." Lister pointed out, sharing a very small smile with the hologram across from him. To Lister’s dismay, the smile melted quickly and Rimmer sighed, deflating and huddling into himself as the dust of another confession settled. Tentatively, Lister reached out and squeezed one of Rimmer’s hands, trying to catch the hologram’s eye.

"You know I'm always here for you, Arn. Always. Even if I acted like I hated you pretty much most of the time. And you might still be the most despicable, neurotic, tunnel-nosed smegger to ever blight the face of space, but you’re _my_ despicable smegger you know? You really think that would change, after all I’ve put up with? Actually, if you ask me, coming back and saying that… it’s probably the bravest smegging thing you’ve ever done. And either the rest of the crew realises that or I'll realise it for them. With a fist, if necessary.”

Rimmer blinked quickly and coughed, elaborately clearing his throat for an obscenely long time. Lister pretended not to notice the distinct watery look that Rimmer had about his eyes as the other man sniffled and composed himself.

"Yes well. Thanks.” He cleared his throat again, as if the gratitude physically pained him. “And um, sorry," he said quietly "For the teasing."

Lister was sorely tempted to make a quip about Rimmer actually apologising for something, but was so shocked by the gesture that he lapsed into a short, stunned silence. 

"You know, you weren't bad man," he said finally, quickly retracting his hand from Rimmer's and ducking his head. 

"What? Sorry, I feel like I've lost the thread of this conversation. We're not passing through a time-anomaly right now are we?"

"No, I mean. The teasing, it was fine." Lister hastily backtracked and looked up, mentally cursing himself for his potentially self-damning comment, and cursing Rimmer for his stupidity.

"So, my teasing... 'wasn't bad'? Am I supposed to say thank you?" Rimmer's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Forget it man. It's not important. So what have you been up to while you've been gone? Apart from shagging loads of blokes" he winked and Rimmer rolled his eyes. 

"It really doesn't bother you?"

"What, the bloke thing? Nah, course not. You're still you and I'm still me. As far as I'm concerned, you're the same annoying smeg who left and who, for some mad reason, decided to come back."

Rimmer smiled, tilting his champagne glass in his hand "Maybe it was because I missed you."

"Get out of town."

Rimmer wiggled his eyebrows suggestively before sighing.

"Sorry"

"Twice in one day? Rimmer, watch it on the apologies, you might do yourself an injury."

"Ace habits are hard to break."

"So, what did you do out there?"

"Rescuing civilisations, interplanetary negotiations, preventing war. Pretty boring stuff most of the time."

"Yeah, sounds like you were just  _dying_  for something meaningful to do."

"Don't be facetious; I only got to surf through the air on a crocodile  _once._ Consider me very disillusioned by the whole experience."

"What about the blokes then? When did you realise you were gay?"

Rimmer pursed his lips.

“Come on Arn, you know that I’m not going to judge you. I’m just interested.”

“Fine. I erm, tripped into a dimension where I was… _he_ was open about the whole thing. I mean, he was more flaming than one of your midnight curries. Frankly, we despised each other, but it got me thinking. Eventually we sat down and had a chat. It took me a while to realise that maybe we weren’t totally different. Although I don’t think I’ll ever understand the feather boa. Or the high heels… Or the tramp stamp.”

"Tramp stamp? Rimmer, tell me you didn't"

"Didn't what?"

"Sleep with yourself"

"No! Smeg no! Absolutely not! Honestly Lister, will your perverted mind never cease?"

Lister shrugged, mentally rolling his eyes – _the hologram doth protest too much_. "Well I've slept with myself and you never let me hear the end of it. Besides, stranger things have happened."

"Like what?"

"I dunno. Strange....things."

"Your elocutionary powers never fail to impress"

Lister snuck a glance at Rimmer, hoping he’d take what he said next in the right way. "You coming out was kind of a strange thing. Not because it was exactly unexpected; I've had my suspicions for a while. But because it takes a lot of guts. I always figured that your guts were surgically removed at birth."

"Being Ace gave me back a foot and a half of small intestine. Hardly much 'guts' to speak of." A small, bitter smile twisted the corners of his mouth and Lister felt strangely relieved that this Rimmer still remained. Not the Ace Rimmer, but  _his_  Rimmer. 

"It's still brave man. Take the compliment." 

Rimmer hummed noncommittally.

"I'm serious!" Lister laughed, nudging him "Takes balls! Never knew you had it in you. Always thought your eunuch days had transferred over."

"Oh smeg off," Rimmer said, but there was no real feeling behind the words. He was grinning, leaning into Lister's touch "so,  _was_ I any good in your dream?"

"I've already told you!"

"You haven't!"

"I have! I said you er... you weren't...bad."

"Oh really? Listy, that sounds almost like a compliment. Are you feeling alright? Shall we get Kryten to check your temperature?" Affecting concern, Rimmer placed a hard-light hand against Lister's forehead. 

"I told you man, I've missed you," Lister said softly, gently knocking Rimmer's hand away and glancing up at him from under his lashes. "I've missed this."

 _Stop flirting!_ Screamed his subconsciousness. 

"Are you -" Rimmer's brow creased ".... _flirting?_  You know, this is the exact  _opposite_  of what I expected to happen after coming out. Thought you'd pull back a bit actually."

"Why would you think that?”

Rimmer shrugged, wincing a little as he said “Worried that you’d think I was… you know. Coming on to you.”

"Are you?”

Rimmer glared at him and Lister laughed. The hologram wouldn’t give a direct answer to that sort of question on a good day.

“Nah man, like I said, nothing’s changed. I’m just glad that you’ve acknowledged it; you’re probably doing better than the rest of us.”

Rimmer gave him an odd look, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully. Typical. Trust the man to be perceptive at the wrong smegging time.

“Now, what do you mean by that Listy?”

"Well. Um... isn’t it obvious? We’re all not er, really honest… all of the time. About… things?" Lister realised that he’d managed to talk himself into rather an awkward kind of corner. One with spikes in it, and a large gaping chasm in the floor.

"Not like you to be tongue-tied Listy." Rimmer’s eyes were smirking at him, even while the rest of his face remained passively interested. Smug git.

"You're not making this easy for me man," Lister hedged, looking around him desperately. No emergency exit signs immediately lit up, and he resigned himself to his fate.

"Out with it then!" 

Lister squirmed uncomfortably. His mouth felt dry and his whole body ran cold. But it needed to be said.

"Well... you're not the only less-than-straight individual on board Starbug"

Lister couldn’t see Rimmer’s expression; his own eyes were firmly fixed anywhere but on Rimmer’s face.

A pause.

"Oh please Lister, we all know Cat isn't-"

"I'm not talking about the smegging Cat!"

"Well you can't mean Kryten"

"No, I don't mean Kryten”

"...Bob?"

"Are you doing this on purpose?"

A mirthful sounding silence from the hologram. Lister rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"David 'thinks-he's-Giacomo-Casanova-reincarnated' Lister? Come on Rimmer, you're not this stupid."

"Perhaps I am"

"You're smegging enjoying this, aren't you? I'll say it again, you're a complete arse."

Rimmer remained silent, but his eyes were sparkling with amusement. Lister wondered if he could see something else sparkling there, or if it was just his overactive imagination. 

"Look man, I can't believe I have to spell it out for you. I’m a bit buttered on both sides? AC/DC? Equal opportunities employer?"

Rimmer burst into laughter at the last phrase.

"Stop laughing at me!"

"I'm not, I'm not! That's just the first time I've heard that last one. It's not a dirty word you know." he finished more gently.

"I know."

There were a few beats of silence. Rimmer looked down at his feet, trying to affect nonchalance. Lister looked anywhere but at Rimmer, staring straight ahead at the flashing red light which let Kryten know when his latest laundry load was done.

“Well, I suppose that makes two of us at least. We could start a club. Space sods anonymous. Free subscription to  _Big Boys in Boots_  and a class on ‘Coming Out in Outer Space’ when you join.” Rimmer said finally, glancing up and chuckling nervously.

"Yeah…yeah" Lister laughed quietly, his eyes flicking towards where Rimmer leant against a workstation. 

Before he quite knew what had overtaken him, he was reaching towards Rimmer and pulling the man up in a shaky hug. At first, hugging Rimmer was a bit like hugging a statue, and Lister couldn’t really say that he’d expected anything else. What staggered him was when Rimmer suddenly _melted_ against him, bundling him up in something that was very close to a passable hug.With the other man's superior strength as a hard-light hologram, Lister was surprised at how protected he felt, how secure. He would have scolded himself for being a hopeless sap, but instead he found himself pressing further into the embrace, seeking the comfort that he hadn't even realised that he needed. Rimmer was right; this whole coming out deal was terrifying. He could feel himself shaking slightly. He'd never had a problem with his sexuality, but he'd never acknowledged it out loud either, not since being the only human left alive. It had hardly seemed important. But it was. It still was. 

Rimmer's hand was rubbing soothing circles on his back, the other gently cupping the back of Lister's neck as he trembled and eventually stilled, breathing slightly more harsh and irregular than he would like. 

"I know" Rimmer murmured, his cheek pressed against the top of Lister's head. "You don't realise what a weight it is until suddenly it's off."

Lister let out a long breath of air, as if he was recovering from a punch to the stomach. He pulled back from the embrace slightly, letting Rimmer's hands slide down to rest on his arms. It didn't occur to him to shrug out of the grip.

"Yeah. Yeah, that's spot on man. How are you so calm? You've come out to the whole smegging crew, and look like you've just spent a relaxing week by a pool reading endless copies of classic car magazine"

"I suppose that technically, I've been out for ages. In other dimensions. But it's really not the same and I'm not...calm. Ace habits. Brave-facing it. All that smeg." Rimmer's grip on Lister's arms twitched as he swallowed uncomfortably, words coming out of a dry throat. 

"You must have visited a lot of realities. Meet any fun versions of me? Versions you liked better?"

"There was one who ate pasta and could recite the entire works of Shakespeare backwards. He also appreciated Hammond Orchestra Music."

"Just show me the nearest wormhole and I'll smegging murder him"

Rimmer smiled at him, and if Lister didn't know better, he'd say that it looked almost  _fond._

"I've missed  _you_ Listy. This you. You really have no idea how long it took me to trace everything back, find  _this specific reality_  and even then it was partly an accident. Sifting through all these realities that weren’t quite right and then I beamed on-board here and I _knew,_ I could just tell. And then I thought you hated me because you wouldn’t even look at me and well, I suppose we did hate each other back then. I still do actually. Definitely hate you. Your personal hygiene standards on their own are enough to send waste-disposal lorries running to their depots. But also I _missed_ hating you. Quite a lot.  A smegload in fact. So you know I was thinking, maybe… in the end, it actually amounts to something a bit, well a bit different to _hating_. Don’t you think?" Rimmer’s voice had taken on a falsely brave edge, but it still wobbled faintly at the edges.

Lister couldn’t help a nervous grin, watching as a simulated blush slowly coloured Rimmer’s face.

“I think you talk too much,” he said cheekily, anticipation and nervous tension making his vowels long, his meaning flirtatious.

Rimmer's affronted look was almost enough to make Lister burst into anxious laughter, but instead he curled an arm around Rimmer’s waist, pulling the hard-light body against him and bringing his other hand gently up to curve against Rimmer’s neck. Strong hands hovered nervously in the air before being tentatively wrapped around Lister’s back.

Lister looked up, nerves so visceral that it felt like they could wrap around his throat and choke him any minute, even as he saw the spark of light in Rimmer's eyes that said  _yes, I feel it too._

"Oh Rimsy," he breathed.

" _Listy,_ " the murmured response to some unasked question. A confirmation.

"Never leave us again" he pleaded quietly.

"I won't, I promise I won't"

And Lister could almost have snorted with laughter because he hadn't  _meant_ to follow his dream script, hadn't meant any of this to happen when he’d seen Rimmer in the drive room, hair tousled and exuding an aura of utter unapologetic smegginess. But he didn't laugh. Rimmer's hand clutched the back of his jacket desperately, lips hesitating over his until Lister couldn’t bear the tension, the hesitation. He surged forward, Rimmer’s simulated gasp captured for a tantalising moment between them before it was crushed against their lips in a fevered rush.

A tiny burst of static flashed across Lister’s lips where they touched Rimmer’s, dissipating as he pressed closer. Rimmer’s mouth opening on a gentle sigh of contentment as Lister’s hand stroked through his hair. The inquisitive touch of a tongue that sparked off a driving need so intense that Lister could almost feel it as a physical force, clutching against Rimmer as their movements became more hurried and erratic, months apart crystallising into a moment of everything they had ever missed or dreamed about. Lips swollen red with the pressure, teeth getting in the way and clinking together, but Lister couldn’t bring himself to care if it was awkward, or less than perfect, or anything that it wasn’t. Because it was _Rimmer_.

Strong, newly determined hands pulled Lister closer, their warmth against his back dragging him dangerously close to sobbing at the simple feeling of it all. Rimmer was  _here._ He clasped Rimmer's cheeks gently between shaking hands, kissing him desperately, needing the assurance that this was real, that he wasn't about to wake up and see the inside walls of his bunk. He wouldn't be able to stand it. 

He drew back slowly, eyes flickering over the other man's face, searching for a tell-tale glitch in reality, something that would snap him back to the loneliness of the bunk room.

"Are you real?" he asked after a moment, voice more hoarse and vulnerable than he had anticipated. Rimmer looked at him, expression almost unreadable, lips shining and eyes reflecting the blinking of the red light as Lister waited for an answer, praying it wouldn't be the one he was expecting. Waking up, the bunk ceiling over his head, a soul-deep heaviness in his heart-

Lister’s maudlin thought process was rudely interrupted by a sting of pain at the back of his neck. He yelped, smacking Rimmer’s hand away and giving the man a vaguely scandalised glare.

"You pinched me!" he said indignantly.

"Captain Obvious has nothing on you.” Rimmer deadpanned, rolling his eyes “Of course I'm real, you stupid goit. As real as a hologram can get anyway. Scout’s honour." He solemnly held up three fingers in a salute.

"You were a terrible scout"

“I can pinch you again if you’re not convinced”

“I’m convinced, I’m convinced!” Lister rubbed the back of his neck and eyed Rimmer warily "Bloody hell, I forget that you're a right smeghead sometimes."

"Now how could you possibly forget that? It's practically a cornerstone of my character." Rimmer smiled easily at the self-deprecating joke and Lister was reminded of the Rimmer-lite version in his dreams. Less uptight. More mellow. Perhaps they both were, in their ways.

Lister rolled his eyes, leaning into the man and gripping the lapels of the silver jacket. It crinkled in his hands as he glanced at Rimmer, lifting his lips back up to brush the ones he'd been dreaming of for god knows how many restless nights.

"So, I don't know if you got this-" Lister said, pulling away to look Rimmer in the eye "-but I'm er, a little um… bisexual." He managed to keep a straight face for all of about two seconds before he winked and Rimmer snorted with laughter, hands coming to rest on Lister's waist.

"Really? Gosh, I never would have guessed. Here I was thinking that you were a - what was it? Oh yes - an equal opportunities employer?"

"Oh smeg off" 

"Thank you," Rimmer said softly, genuinely "Thank you for telling me". Rimmer pressed a light kiss against the corner of his lips, and Lister felt himself blushing at the tenderness of the gesture. He never could have imagined Rimmer,  _Rimmer,_ making him feel like this. The Rimmer who kept his toenails clipped to regulation length and pulled rank on something as mundane as pocket-lint accumulation. But here he was, getting all mushy because this man, the man with a rod so far up his arse that you could see it when he yawned, had kissed him tenderly. 

It occurred to Lister that if this - whatever it was - had happened any other time, it could never have worked. Rimmer, (so deep in the closet that the Cat could criticise him for not developing a better dress sense) would never have been able to admit his sexuality to himself, let alone anyone else. Let alone _act_ on that sexuality. And something had changed, shifted ever so slightly since he’d come back. It was there in the soft way he spoke, in the way he didn’t immediately fly off the handle when someone irritated him. It felt almost like Rimmer stood taller, as if he believed he might mean more as a person. Like he had become something that he could almost be proud of, not held back by his own self-imposed restraints of doubt and hatred. Or not _so_ held back. He was still _Rimmer_ after all. And then there was Lister himself. He'd grown too, grown out of annoying Rimmer for annoyance's sake, mellowed with age until arguing with the man felt almost as intimate as kissing. 

It wasn’t nearly as _fun_ though.

He was almost more than a little disgusted with himself for being so pathetically besotted, and wondered whether he was just falling victim to Ace charms, like so many must have done before him. But then, he reasoned, he also knew all the worst sides of Rimmer, the sides that you couldn't see when he was Ace. The sides of him that were undoubtedly still _there_ , if somewhat diminished.

The neuroses. The lust for power. That smegging awful habit of quoting the wrong Space Corps Direction when he didn't get his way.

And besides, his dreams had always been about _Arnold,_ not Ace _._ His utter smeghead of a bunk mate who’d been playing Ace Rimmer dress-up, but was still a petty, irritating, neurotic bastard at heart. Lister thought he rather liked him better that way. Both flawed as they were, they made a matching pair.

“Earth to Listy?”

“Sorry” Lister looked sheepish, “Got a bit caught up in my head there. I can’t believe this is… you know, _happening_. I can’t believe you’re really here.”

“Believe it, Miladdo; I didn’t come back to this reality just to be dismissed as a product of the poorly-furnished, unevolved lump of flesh that you have the audacity to call a _brain_.”

 “You’re simply lovely, aren’t you?” Lister had meant for the words to be sarcastic, but his good mood had made them sound almost painfully sincere. Rimmer beamed with smugness at the comment.

“You seem to think so” he coughed, “Besides, you’re er, not so bad yourself.”

Lister rolled his eyes and grinned, eagerly leaning in for another kiss and revelling in the warm feeling that rushed through his veins and made him almost drunk with feeling as Rimmer's lips met his.

A loud yowl reverberated through both of their skulls and they jerked apart, staring at the doorway where the Cat was sporting a rainbow-striped suit covered in sequins and accented with a yellow neckerchief. The word 'Pride' had been spelt out in rhinestones across the pocket and it looked almost as if the Cat had tried to be supportive, in his own extravagant way. The effect was somewhat ruined when he opened his mouth.

"You have got to be kidding! You too monkey man? I knew you had those disturbed dreams, but that didn’t mean you had to act on them! I can't compete if there are two of you! I'm gonna die wearing a mint green cardigan, aren't I? You can't make me shop in Edinburgh Woollen Mill! I won't let you!"

"Cat, it’s really not what it looks like-" Lister tried placatingly. Rimmer glared at him, thoroughly unimpressed “Ok, maybe it’s a bit what it looks like. But it’s not like that means anything man! Come on, you’ve lived with both of us for how many years?”

“Too damn many,” was the sour response.

“Exactly. And have we ever been able to tell if your suits were last season? Smeg, have we ever even noticed when you wore them twice in a row?”

“If you’re trying to insult me monkey man, it’s _working.”_

 _“_ No Cat, come on, we haven’t changed, nothing’s different-“

“Actually it is. I’d _hope.”_ Rimmer raised his eyebrows and ghosted his hand slowly down Lister’s back, making him shiver.

“Fine fine, yes, in _that_ sense it’s different. Cat, stop looking at me like that; I can’t believe you’re serious about this.”

“It’s a serious problem!”

“Smeg, it’s not like you’re suddenly going to become Dwayne Dibley just because there are two queers on Starbug.”

The Cat looked stricken with fear.

“Cat. I wasn’t serious. Cat!”

The feline backed slowly away from them as if they carried a deadly disease.

“Cat!”

“Don’t speak! You might Dwayne Dibley-ify me!”

 Lister rolled his eyes, wearily massaging his temples. It was really something when you realised that, apart from yourself, a dead man who organised dollarpounds by issue number and masturbated on a pre-ordained schedule was more normal than the rest of the crew. Said dead man was quietly guffawing as Lister did battle with the uncontested winner of the ‘most unintentionally homophobic feline of the year’ award, an arm wrapped warmly around Lister’s waist. Lister found the gesture absurdly comforting, and looked up at Rimmer with such a disgustingly soppy expression on his face that the hologram frowned and told him to snap out of it.

“Ugh. You monkeys are the most nauseating, inconsiderate, unfashionable-”

The two monkeys didn’t get to find out what else they were, because by the time the Cat had almost backed himself out of the door, he interrupted himself with another surprised wail.

The Cat leapt back into the room as Kryten barged past, huffing and puffing as he blustered around the room, pretending to dust and casting vicious glares at Rimmer and Lister. Several times he turned, an angry cuboid finger raised before he dropped it and went on to petulantly scrub at a non-existent stain. 

Finally, the android paused in his energetic administrations, wringing the cloth between his hands as he continued to dart furious looks at Rimmer and Lister who were relaxing against each other and waiting for the monologue to drop. The casual familiarity, as if they'd been doing this sort of thing for years, likely did nothing to help matters, and as Rimmer cast a fleetingly fond glimpse at the top of Lister's head, something in Kryten snapped.

"Oh, I don't know how I stand this!" he wailed "First, I find out that Mr Lister _lied_ about Mr Rimmer dying. Honestly, getting all our hopes up like that when he was such a smee- heee-" he cleared his throat "I thought I could let that one slide, I thought 'now Kryten, Mr Lister wouldn't want you suffocating him like this, getting all het up about something that happened such a long time ago'. But  _this?_ I'm sorry sir, but I feel betrayed. Yes,  _betrayed._ How  _could_ you? You hate Mr Rimmer! We all hate Rimmer! Even Mr Rimmer hates Rimmer! And here you are, cosying up to him and and and- _"_

“-and kissing” the Cat interjected, making the situation ten times worse as Kryten clutched at his chest plate and sobbed again.

“Kissing. They were  _KISSING?”_

"Oh come on Krytes," Lister said softly, disentangling himself from Rimmer even as the man tried to clamp him to his side in defiance of the android. 

"No no. I know when I'm not wanted. I know when I'm the-the  _second_  favourite crew member." Kryten's lip wobbled before he burst into loud, tearless sobs again, calmed, shot Lister an injured look and stalked from the room before Lister even had a chance to open his mouth. The Cat followed shortly after.

The peace that followed after them was extremely welcome.

Rimmer raised his eyebrows at Lister, who sank lazily back into the hologram’s side.

“It’s nice to know that I’ve been missed”

“They’ll come around… eventually. I’ll suspend Kryten’s washing privileges, and threaten to flush all the fish out of the nearest airlock if it comes to that. Regretting coming back yet?” Lister smirked as he asked the question, but he was almost scared of what Rimmer would say. Could he leave again, after everything? Would he?

He needn’t have worried. He could practically see the customary response of ‘I regretted it before I even got here’ die on his lips as the man smiled softly and shook his head, tracing Lister’s cheek with his thumb.

“Not yet. There’s still time though” he said mock thoughtfully, shrugging out of the shiny jacket which promptly disappeared in a small burst of sparks. "Oh, I didn't ask but... how did I compare?"

"What?"

"To Mr Dream Rimmer; I'm sure he's had bucket loads more experience than I have"

"Oh well, that's probably true. Still, he didn't hold a candle to you man"

"Really? You're not just saying that to make me feel better?"

"Really. I prefer my holograms when they don't disappear on me" he smiled at Rimmer, who gave him a sly look in response.

The next second, Rimmer had vanished and Lister’s heart felt like it had dropped out through his shoes, dropped through one deck level, and flushed itself into the achingly dark void of space. Every fear that he'd just managed to dismiss now threatened to overwhelm him and drag him down to the deepest depths of depression. He waited for the bunkroom to materialise round his ears, waited for the bitterness of another morning being reminded of everything he could no longer have. The next second, he felt something heavy fall into his hands. 

"Arnold Rimmer, you complete and utter SMEGHEAD" Lister's voice echoed throughout the halls of Starbug as Rimmer's lightbee whirred mischievously in his palms. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, kudos and promises of undying love and devotion are all very welcome and make me happier than Rimmer after a successful Risk campaign.


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